


Dean's Doughy Delights

by hungrydean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baker Dean, Chubby Dean, M/M, homeless cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 17:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungrydean/pseuds/hungrydean
Summary: If you’d ever be around a small town called Heavensville, and you were to ask for the best bakery in town, everyone within a few miles would tell you to go to Dean’s Doughy Delights. There was no better bakery than this, and you’d never meet a sweeter man.





	Dean's Doughy Delights

If you’d ever be around a small town called Heavensville, and you were to ask for the best bakery in town, everyone within a few miles would tell you to go to  _Dean’s Doughy Delights_. There was no better bakery than this, and you’d never meet a sweeter man. 

You could find Dean in his bakery, selling cookies and bread and pies and cakes, or in the kitchen behind the bakery, baking delicious goods all by himself. It was quite a large store for only one man since Dean was alone, and it was more than enough to keep him busy every day. You’d wonder if Dean ever rested because it seemed like he never did, but he always smiled and always laughed and seemed never tired of his job.   
One look at him would tell you that his soul was good. His eyes were bright, his nose was covered in freckles, his teeth white and his smile charming. You wouldn’t call him heavy or fat, but his body showed he tasted plenty of his own pies. But like Dean said himself, ‘bakers need his love handles to show how good his products are’. And he was right.

On a quiet Monday, Dean was busy in his kitchen, like any other day, kneading the dough with his large hands filled with skill. His fingers stuck to the dough just enough and he hummed a song, moving around his beloved kitchen to get some flour, squeezing himself in between two piles of boxes with decoration he hadn’t unpacked yet. He was just busy making one of his beloved pecan pies, unknowing that his life was about to change.

He heard a sound from inside the store, a thump. He put down his dough, rinsed his hands under the tap and grabbed a towel. The red blush from hard work on his freckled cheeks contrasted with the white flour on his apron, but he cared about neither. While still drying his hands, he pushed the swinging door open with his back and walked into the store.

There was a man standing in his store, unlike anyone else. Next, to the dirty clothes, the man’s hair seemed long and unkempt, alike the dark beard. But most of all, he stood behind the display and was holding a cream roll in one hand, and a partly eaten slice of one of the freshly baked pies. On the counter lay several loaves of bread hastily pushed into a brown bag.

The man stared at Dean with large, frightened eyes and swallowed, but didn’t say anything.

“So,” Dean said. He was used to getting strangers in his bakery, but not strangers who stole his goods. “… I guess I’ll call the police, then.”

“Please,” the man choked. His voice sounded like gravel, but his eyes were warm and begging. “I- I can explain, don’t… Don’t call the police.”

“Alright,” Dean said to the other’s surprise and he put down the towel. “Give me a reason not to turn around and walk away now. Give me a reason to not call the police.” Dean was known for his kindness, but this man either hadn’t heard of it or hadn’t believed because he seemed to be too confused to answer for a moment.

“I- I… I saw your advertisement.” He said hastily once he seemed to find his speech back. “About needing help.”

Dean had put up a little note on his bakery’s window, asking for assistance, but no one seemed in need of a job.

“Well… I didn’t really mean stealing my food.” Dean frowned.

“I’m sorry, sir, I am… I wanted to walk in here and ask about the vacancy, but then I walked in and… Everything seemed so delicious and- I-” The man looked down to his feet. “I haven’t eaten in four days. I think I lost control when I saw all of this displayed and…”

“Sit down,” Dean demanded and grabbed one of the small, plastic chairs at the side and pulled the table along. “Sit down and finish your food. I’ll get you some water as well, I’ll make you a proper sandwich as well and then we’ll talk.”

When the man had settled and was wolfing down on his food, Dean sat on the other plastic chair and watched. He’d closed the shop so they wouldn’t get interrupted. This was important, the guy was starving and he, Dean, had food enough. Never would he have anyone starve if he could help it.

“Alright, first of all, I’m Dean.”

“Castiel.” The man blinked. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Likewise.” Dean gave Castiel a gentle smile. “Alright, buddy, tell me.” He continued, moving forward a little. “How did you end up here, like this?”

Castiel took a sip of his second glass of water. Now he’d eaten a little, he spoke more.

“I lost my job in my hometown last week,” he told, “… I worked at my mother’s restaurant, but I wasn’t good enough and since I’m her only son who isn’t religious… I was kicked out first.” He shrugged softly. “I lost everything that day. So I walked, and walked, and searched for work, but no one wants a man with nothing to give. And today I ended up here, and then…” He nodded at the almost finished sandwich Dean prepared for him. “I was very hungry.”

“Jesus, man, your mom’s one hell of a… ya know.” Dean huffed, then held up his hands. “Sorry, but it’s gotta be said.”

Castiel gave him a careful smile. “You’re the first person I tell this. The first I really talk to.”

Dean observed Castiel in silence. There was something about him he couldn’t quite place, something graceful and warm, something that told him whatever would happen, he would never forget Castiel.

“You could work here,” Dean offered. Castiel almost dropped his food.

“What? You wouldn’t… I stole your food.”

“Not really,” Dean pointed out. “And… I know how it is to be hungry.” He confessed, giving Castiel a slow nod. “You’re living on the edge, man, and if I can pull you back to solid ground I’m happy to do so. Plus, I could really use that help and you said you used to work in a restaurant.”

“Correct.” Castiel shrugged, not quite sure if Dean was making a good decision yet. “But remember that I have no papers, no clothes, let alone a house or a place to sleep. I’m not the most beneficial employee one could imagine.”

“I don’t care,” Dean shrugged because he simply didn’t care if he was beneficial or not. “I live upstairs. You can get a shower and a few hours of sleep, I’ll get you some money ahead to fix you some clothes and necessities and we’ll find a way to make it work.”

“I… I can’t-” Castiel took a breath. “I can’t accept your offer, Dean, it’s too big… too generous.”

“Well, if you don’t take my offer, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.” He raised his eyebrows at Castiel. Dean knew he’d never report him if he declined, but Castiel nodded.

“That’s comprehensible. I… I will accept it, then. There is no way I can thank you for your generosity.”

Dean’s chuckle created dimples in his cheeks.

“None of that, Cas. Well, let’s get you all fixed up first. I’ll show you the bathroom so you can shower.”

Dean walked upstairs and Castiel, still a little hesitant, followed upstairs.

If you’d ever be around a small town called Heavensville, and you were to ask for the best bakery in town, everyone within a few miles would tell you to go to  _Dean’s Doughy Delights & Castiel’s Crunchy Cookies_. Dean wasn’t alone anymore. With him was Castiel. The two of them put love in all they did and shared it with the people who came to them. For both knew that a simple, generous gesture, could change anyone’s life for good.


End file.
